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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173166">Maybe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Cupcake/pseuds/Murder_Cupcake'>Murder_Cupcake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, BUT ITS TOO LATE, Blood and Injury, But not exactly, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, M/M, Murder Family, POV Will Graham, Sad, Tragic Romance, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, anyways hannigram</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Cupcake/pseuds/Murder_Cupcake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The last scene of Mizumono through the eyes and mind of Will Graham.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Abigail Hobbs &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hannigram, Sad Hannigram</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OK so this idea just came to my mind while I was sad and I just let the words flow and that's it. Hope you like this angsty mess &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You were supposed to leave”</p><p>Nothing could’ve prepared me for the shock of seeing Hannibal all bloody and injured in front of me. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the excruciating pain on my chest when he said “we couldn’t leave without you”. And nothing, nothing in this damn world, could’ve prepared me for the surprise, the relief and the horror I felt when I turned around to see Abigail, alive and scared, right in front of me. Not a ghost, not a fucking hallucination. She was there. She was with him. And then I understood.</p><p>I understood what he meant. We couldn’t leave without you. They were waiting for me. Hannibal saved Abigail, he protected her and now they were waiting for me. For us to leave, together. Far away from all that. Far away from Jack, from the FBI, from Alana, from all this chaos. Just the three of us, together. But of fucking course, my false sense of morality messed everything up.</p><p>It was so late, so late. I betrayed him. I betrayed them. I tried to fix everything in the last moment but it was so fucking late. I couldn’t express what I felt when Abigail opened her mouth to talk; I started to feel dizzy, to feel my senses abandoning me. How this happened, how? And then, when I realized, Hannibal was in front of me. I was such a fool. I could’ve said that I forgave him, but nothing came out. I wanted to scream, I wanted to touch him, to hug him, to say that I’m so sorry. I felt the urge to do all of that but I didn’t, because i’m such a coward.</p><p><br/>
He touched me. So tenderly, so delicately. I felt the cold of his hand on my face. I felt something. I couldn’t move. It was too much, too fucking much. I wish I could’ve touched this hand, I wish I could’ve smiled for him and said that everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay. The police hadn’t arrived yet, we had a chance to escape. But once again, nothing came out. I just stared at him, he was broken. Broken like the teacup. I couldn't hear anything, only my heart. Beating so loud, almost like it was going to explode.</p><p><br/>
The pain I felt inside me, inside my heart, was many times worse than the pain I felt afterwards when Hannibal leaned forward. The blade was cold, cold like his hands, cold like his tears. It pierced my skin, tearing to the side. I deserved that. I betrayed him. I heard my blood along with my desperate beating heart, claiming for forgiveness but accepting my punishment, but I couldn’t hear my screams. I couldn’t hear anything that came out from my damn mouth. I leaned to him, and even with my atrocious treason, he embraced me. I was in his arms and I didn’t know how much i wanted it until that moment.</p><p><br/>
He stroked my hair, holding me, saying things that I couldn’t understand. I really couldn’t understand. The only thing I kept hearing was that loud, drumming sound inside my head. Please. Forgive me. Please, kill me.</p><p><br/>
He proceeded to say those things, nothing but unintelligible whispers to my ears. He was so close to me I could smell the blood on him. His blood. Or Jack’s blood. Doesn’t matter. What if it was my blood? What if he killed me slowly, painfully, savouring my blood on his lips, having it on his body? What if? But no, he was being so merciful with me, leaving me only with a smile carved on my skin.</p><p><br/>
Mercy. He was having mercy. I didn’t deserve his mercy. I deserved his violence, his fury, his design. When I came back to my senses, enough to hear and to talk, I was on the floor, bleeding. I could hear him saying that I didn’t want it, I didn’t want his rare gift. But oh how I wanted, I wanted it so much it hurted me. “Didn’t I?”. He said I would deny his life, this wasn’t true. Not his life, never. He asked if I believed I could change him, the way he’d changed me. I know I changed him, I could see in his eyes. I changed him, exactly how he changed me. That was it.</p><p><br/>
He said he forgave me. No, please. Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve that, please. I started to feel weak, and the blood stream on my ears was loud again. He forgave me but he was going to leave me. I knew he was going to leave me. The only thing I could say was no. Please, no. Don’t. Don’t leave me. Please, don’t. Please. You punished me and now I can fix everything. Abigail, then, approached him. No. Please. He wasn’t going to do that. Please. I can fix it. I can gather all the pieces of the teacup. I can. Please.</p><p><br/>
He ripped her neck, exactly like Hobbs did. Ironic, isn’t it? We gave her life, and now we were taking it from her. We. Because it was my fault, I ruined everything. In this damned bloodfest, we lose our protégé. Our child. Our daughter. The girl that bathed in blood, just like him, just like me. What a unique family we would be. We had so many possibilities ahead, and now there was nothing. I was crying, as well as him. His pain was my pain, his tears were my tears. And she was now laying next to me. In an act dominated by impulse, I went close to her, my hand now on her neck. Of course I couldn't stop the bleeding, of course I couldn't change anything. Maybe I did that because of guilt.</p><p><br/>
I was looking at her face, she was dying in my arms once again. And this time, there wouldn’t be anyone to save her. I’m so sorry, Abigail. We couldn’t protect you, we couldn’t save you. I couldn’t. We were dying. Father and daughter. And he, he wasn’t there anymore. He left us. He left us in this blood sea. But I deserved it. My betrayal costed Abigail’s life. Maybe in another world we could be together, maybe in another world we could be something close to happy.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>And then everything went dark.</p>
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